He stood in the center of the stable beside Cameron, both of them flanking Copper’s stall. But that wasn’t what made Elise’s breath catch.
It was the ramp.
An enormous, gleaming, mechanized wheelchair ramp sat in front of Copper’s stall. It was…beautiful—hydraulic, adjustable, and electric. A veritable wheelchair elevator made to rise straight up to a horse.
Beside it was a custom saddle rig with a harness configuration unlike anything she’d ever seen outside a therapy barn.
Copper, curious and calm, poked his nose over the stall door as if to say,Well? Look what they did.
Wade lifted his gaze slowly.
He looked tentative, as if he had no idea whether this would heal her or shatter her.
“Elise,” he said, voice steady but soft. “Merry Christmas.”
Her heart punched against her ribs.
For a beat, she couldn’t speak or breathe. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away furiously.
Nicole touched her shoulder. “This is why I was weird,” she whispered. “Cam helped him set it up. It arrived at sunrise.”
Cameron grinned. “The instructions were terrible, but we figured it out.”
Elise swallowed hard. The cold air from outside clashed with the sudden heat in her chest.
Wade took a barely perceptible step forward. “It’s a…ramp.”
Her laugh escaped on a shaky breath. “I see that.”
“And a new saddle.”
“Yes, that, too.”
“And a harness configuration that’ll let you ride Copper without anyone helping you up or trailing you around the paddock.”
Her fingers tightened around the wheels of her chair. “Wade…”
He inhaled slowly. “I know how things sounded last night,” he said. “And I know this might feel like more of the same. But it isn’t. Elise…this isn’t about fixing you.”
The words struck like a bell, vibrating through her.
He hesitated before glancing at Cam and Nicole. “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”
Cam squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll be inside, E. Take your time.”
When they left, Wade’s expression grew serious. “I owe you an explanation before you accept this gift. May I offer you a ride?”
Right then, he could have asked for anything—the moon, a million dollars, her undying love. The answer would have been yes.
She just looked at him and nodded, feeling hot and oddly light, as if someone had reduced the gravity in the room. Wade’s green eyes held hers, bright and earnest beneath the brim of that black cowboy hat.
“Let me show you,” he said quietly. “And if you hate it, we shut it down, we take it apart, I’ll haul every piece off this property myself. Deal?”
Her heart hammered as she rolled closer. The unit was sleek and solid, bolted securely on a platform on the floor. The whole thing was edged with low safety rails, and looked like it was operated by a control panel mounted at arm height. On the far side, a wide, padded gate lined up perfectly with Copper’s girth as Wade opened the stall door and led him out.
“It works a lot like the van lift,” Wade said, keeping his voice low, giving her space to take it all in. “You roll on, lock your chair, hit the button to raise the platform. Once you’re level with the saddle, you’ve got this transfer bar here.” He tapped a sturdy, swiveling arm attached to the side. “You grab, pivot, and lower yourself over. The saddle’s got side blocks and this discreet hip strap once you’re settled. It can all be done on your own.”
Elise studied each part, her brain automatically assessing angles, distances, failure points. “And if Copper moves?”
